


Only Fools

by Madzie



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: AU, Angst, College, M/M, Mondains, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-04 02:39:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6638053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie/pseuds/Madzie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was lean, and muscular, with a mess of black locks and shy eyes which shimmer with sincerity, and took Magnus's breath away.</p><p>	"Who are you," he mutters in greeting. Both a bit astonished, and a bit flustered.</p><p>	"I'm Alec Lightwood," he reaches forward with an open hand. "I'm your assigned tutor.</p><p> </p><p>-OR-</p><p> </p><p>College Mundane AU :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Youth

 

Sitting upon the bed of his minuscule dorm, Magnus Bane examines the makeup he had fluently etched onto each sharp edge and corner of his beauteous features, placing an emphasis to his almond orbs, and golden radiance.

Occasionally, within moments of hush—Such as now—Magnus’s thoughts tend to wander towards memories he has made it a point to lock away. Like when Ragnor utterly destroyed his beloved charango, , or Magnus’s painful encounter with a cactus, Or the time some crazed lunatic had shot a barrage of bullets into one of his favorite bars, (while Magnus was on a date with a rather attractive boy, he might add.) 

But for now, Magnus finds his ponderings to stray towards a particularly tender subject—Wondering what sort of people his parents had been, and what peaces of his being he had inherited from them. 

Before her suicide, did his mother share the precise and intricate way of ambling about—As he—aware to her grace and the gazes of befuddled onlookers trailing her path. Like a feline hunting it's prey. Did she perhaps run her dainty hands through matching strands of ebony whenever she grew nervous or worrisome?

And prior to his arrest of afflicting horrendous abuse upon his only son, nearly taking the child's life,did Magnus's father also have the proclivity of building a barrier of walls around his heart, so to protect himself from the harsh condemnations of reality, and the painful tendency of watching those he loves shattering once kept promises.

A desperate sort of chuckle tears out of the young adult's mouth, when reminiscing how he had been rescued from a life of cruelties and neglect, to only being placed into an orphanage where the supposed care takers would look onto him with seething distain, as if the Indonesian native was lesser somehow from these white folks. 

The supposed refuge practiced solitary confinement as a method of admonishment, if they were feeling merciful, and a lashing of the whip if the week's duties were found to be tedious and the employees desired an escape from the utter boredom of it all. 

As the laughter by Magnus increased, he was becoming all the more convinced that something deep within him was broken. he had grown so apathetic to all the hardships which had pillaged his upbringing, that it appears his twisted cackles are all that reprieve him from culminating into a pool of searing fury, and harsh obscenities directed towards the wickedness that has found him in this relentless existence.

It doesn't take Magnus long to collect himself, post catching the buzzing of his phone. 

~Kit-Cat~  
You better have left, or I’ll drag you there myself.

~Kit-Cat~  
-Don't make it a bigger deal than it has to be Mags.

With a huff of frustration,, the boy sweeps his fingers across the touch screen of the device, articulating the recipient of his utter discontent of his needing to relinquish any amount of his precious time to such a vacuous act. Although he will remain civil and attend the meeting if not for anything but to assure her of his ability to function as a normal human being completely…Though Magnus reckons that no matter what, Catarina would continue to fret over him, just as she does for Ragnor, and just about everyone she cares for.

With an air of anguish, the young adult flops onto the austere duvet of his dorm, making a mental note to replace the comforter with a spread which is not the precise antithesis of his flamboyance.

It doesn't take long at all for the persistent buzzing to begin. Magnus can picture each message as it is delivered. Plenty of "this is good for yous," and the always popular, "You owe me for the whole Peru incident with Ragnor."

So with a reluctant exhale, Magnus concludes that Catarina would pester him no matter what, and he might as well complete his preparations for the upcoming night, rather than face her wrath.

Despite being well aware to the true lack of effort it would take Magnus to accentuate the striking features he had been granted at birth, he yet finds a comfort within the glamor and glitz of dressing in all sorts of outrageously exuberant apparel,, of which only a hand full of humans can actually pull off successfully. 

The young man had always found a joy in spotting the questioning glances of onlookers, who are unsure whether to gawk in shock, or gaze longingly at his striking strand of vitality.

Magnus had always enjoyed being a conundrum.

Perhaps it is his indifference to any and all disparaging glowers by strangers, that is the reasoning behind his never truly needing to sought after any sort of romantic endeavors. As if moths migrating to a flame, Magnus had always been the pursuit of those whom had found themselves enamored by him. The only discrepancy being that Magnus had never intended to burn those whom cared for him—Which is more than he could say about most.

Magnus supposes he had experienced many loves within in his short lifespan as of yet. And he can only reason that the lack of the sensation at birth had only created an insatiable thirst of desire to experience what it meant to love in his later years. After all, he has been involved with all sorts of people. Boys, girls. Poor, wealthy. Black, white…And all in-betweens. (None of the exteriors of a person had truly mattered to him.) The young man had always found all sorts of people and ideas intriguing and beautiful. 

Though he must confess to his preference always lying to the feet of those whom carry the rare hybrid of obsidian hair, and eyes whispering of something beneath it all.

Despite his partiality to such an appearance, once upon a time Magnus had considered a girl with hair as full and iridescent as sheafs of bronze, and eyes mirroring the treacherous depths of the ocean waves, ever in search of the most grotesque tactic in destroying whatever clogs it's path, his most greatest of loves—Which but of course means that it was a terrible thing indeed.

She had been older by a handful of years. A beauty with the grace of a debutante, and a wit which cut as harshly and deeply as the edge of the most wicked of blades.

Magnus had first encountered the lovely Camille Belcourt a fortnight prior to his eighteenth birthday. He would soon no longer be a ward of the state…Though that did little to excite the teen in the least. After all he had been wandering the open streets of New York alone for over half a decade—Unlike his close friends, Catarina Loss, and Ragnor Fell, Magnus had never, in his few years of being tossed into over a dozen, found a home willing to raise a child as eccentric as he without the occasional beating. So he had come to the decision to pave his own path, and depend on none, or else he would expose his vulnerabilities to the depravity of this dimension.

As a fugitive of the streets, Magnus had come to except that all the pleasures of life were temporary, and all that was temporary would inevitably break one's heart.

And none were as temporary as Camille Belcourt.

Upon their first meeting, it had only taken the exchange of cynical banter, and a shared drink with more fury than they, for Magnus to follow in the foot steps of so many prior to he, and fall into her alluring orbit. Though Magnus did not doubt for a moment that he was far from the last of a string of desperate suitors pining after her effulgence.

It was amidst the unruly snickers of the patrons of the tavern, and the generic melody reverberating through the walls, when her piercing eyes had pierced straight into his own, and Magnus fate had been sealed.

For months subsequent, he had dotingly followed her around, as if a love sick mutt.

Camille Belcourt had exposed Magnus to all the indulgences of livelihood. It was a time of unadulterated elation, days strung together in an intermingling of chortles and intoxication, losing themselves in the experience of the frivolity of youth. A solitary fraction of his existence composed of tender kisses pressed against exposed skin, and clandestine whispers of all the haunting realities of the iniquities and corruption of the land they wandered, exchanged in the depths of night. A sobering conversation that can only be held between outcasts whom had personally felt the viciously formidable injustices of such an existence, but yet withheld a competence and savvy which had led them to penetrating a renowned gala disguised as the duke and duchess of a land they had fabricated—A figment of their imagination where one's intellect was seen over the money their parents had bestowed to them upon their birth. 

Magnus had never before experienced a euphoria so great, and expected that she had mirrored his sentiments.

So in the midst of one of their late night assignations, Magnus had pulled apart from her scarlet lips. And despite yet being dazed from the haze of ardency clouding their forms, he divulged to her his devotions.

"I love you," he had declared with such an ernest sincerity, that he felt as if each thread of his being was quivering.

It took a moment too long for Magnus to comprehend the amusement shimmering in her irises of caramel to being more cruel than anything else, and the curve of her lips to being a snarl.

"Oh my dearest Magnus," she cooed while detaching her yet naked form from his own. "I thought you of all people would have known better," she shook her head with a disappointed click of the words.

Magnus yearned for her to return kissing him in that impassioned way they had just been in the midst of, and to no longer look at him in a way which speaks volumes of how she had become yet another person he has disappointed in a way that can not be amended.

"You thought I would have known what?" The teen queried hopelessly, aching for the restoration of their slice of paradise.

The enchantress gave another shake of the head, and as she leaned down to cup her slender fingers around his jaw, Magnus was able to take in the intricacies of her lovely face. From the few strands of hair matting on her forehead, to how the moonlight drenching over her form made it so her skin was an alabaster white, a glow gliding over her as if she were truly an apparition levigating within her guarded fortress of brilliance and untruths. (She is so utterly lovely and enchanting that Magnus is convinced she is a beauty from another time and place, here to bless him with her mere presence.)

"My dearest Magnus," she breathed out in a hush, the warmth of her breath making it so shivers rundown his spine. "To love is to be careless of one's own preservation. What if I had returned your affections. What if I too had given you peaces of my being to cherish and adore. And what if only months from this moment you find a new girl or boy, one whom has captured your fancy so entirely that you were to leave me in the dust. And then what? Do you expect me to stand half hallow, and half heartbroken, awaiting for someone to fix me once more. All do to my loving you?"

"I would never do that to you," Magnus very nearly pleaded.

"Yes, but I would do that to you," Her laugh is nothing more than a tinkle, and for the first time, Magnus was not lost in it's effervescence. 

the vixen straddled his thighs once more, pressing her bare chest against his own. ”And I'd rather enjoy your company without the worry of needing to break your heart by the end of our little arrangement."

When he looked into her wide irises, it was the first time that Magnus allows himself to find the apathy and never satisfied expectation lying beneath the brilliant shell of iridescence, which Magnus had once used in remembrance of the lush sod of the fields he had escaped to when yet living in Indonesia, and needing to evade his home of sadism and savagery by his father.

Once he had believed that all the treacheries and deprivations, which had ravaged his years, could be remedied by her enchanting presence, which gleamed in her wide irises, and the confidence of the curve of her plump lips—A smile ripe with vivacity and the hushed promise of a world beyond this one—If one dares to become lost in the enigma that is Camille Belcourt. 

It was at that moment that Magnus had understood that no matter how intriguing he may be, he would always be another convenient toy in her mind—An amusing plaything that will serve to entertain her as long as it possibly could. And once he inevitably could not, she would toss him aside, (Just like the rest of them.) As if swatting away an insect which had become nothing more than a nuisance..

Subsequent to his revelation, Magnus, with all the dignity a naked, and homeless teen could muster, parted himself from Camille Belcourt's seductive grasp.

"I don't care what we've been through, it doesn't mean we have to become shells of human beings." Magnus professed. "There's always something better, and someone to love."

And as he walked out of the dreary motel room they had been able to quire for the night, Magnus excepted that those would be the final words that he would utter to Camille Belcourt for a long while…And He pretended as if the truth did not cause a thriving sob to swell deep within him. 

It was months of drinking his weight in alcohol on a nightly basis, and loving faces he wouldn't be able to recall the following morning, until Catarina and Ragnor had found him lying on a park bench, pitiful and yet in love with the phantom of Camille Belcourt he had conjured up in his dreams and fantasies, rather than the one he had walked away from all that time ago.

Acting as the friends they were, the pair had helped Magnus in ways that he could never repay, and eventually, he had no longer relied on the serenity of numbness to get through his loneliest of nights, and he had reminded himself of who he truly was. An astounding man, with an even more astounding heart, and keen fashion sense.

Slowly but surely, he had severed himself completely from all the remnants of the brunette vixen, and has found himself living life to the fullest once more. And somehow, (with a twist of remarkably good fortune, his pitiful childhood story, and his striking charisma,) Catarina—A recent student of nursing school—Had assisted Magnus's enrollment in one of the finest universities of all the country, The Idris Institute of higher education.

Despite the school's notorious reputation of being filled to the brim with the most arrogant, and self entitled students of this generation, due to a vast majority of it's undergraduates being dynasties of the school, and those aforementioned dynasties being some of the most powerful citizen's of the nation, Magnus could not deny his thrill of the possibility to experience such a mundane life as a college student.

Days attending lectures by professors whom speak each syllable in a drawl, and nights intoxicated by the ambiance of subpar parties riddled with alcohol, secrets, and a plethora of illegal substances meant for the assistance of unwinding. 

Though, due to his less than straight edged past, Magnus was required to keep in decent standing with the school, and to attend regular tutoring sessions with a student of their choosing. 

When firs hearing the conditions of his enrollment of Idris, Magnus blanched at the thought of spending an untold amount of his time with a child born and bread in the exuberance of this world, one whom's most treacherous peril in life was whether or not they could pass a trigonometry test. 

“I’d rather stab my eyes with the tip of a freshly sharpened knife,” Magnus huffed with a disgruntled crossing of the arms.

“That can be arranged if you end up not going,” Catarina offers smugly, effectively convincing a very sulky Magnus to acclimate to the pretense, so to avoid the looming threat.

It was to his great chagrin when Magnus realized the severity of the school's criteria. And was required, upon his first day of residency, to have an introductory juncture with the student whom will act as his first year tutor. One who is bound to be clad in far too thickly rimmed spectacles and abhorred attire found on the cover of the latest collegial pamphlet.

For god's sake he hasn't even been introduced to his dorm mate yet.

Though Magnus pushes aside all his qualms of the situation, finding his pleads to be disregarded at best. So post slipping on one of the final jewels adorning his garbs, he concludes that it would be best to avoid Catarina all together and head to the before agreed upon coffee shop, alone—less he comes off to seeming like a complete and total noob whom requires an escort at all times, as well as a tutor.

“This should be fun,” Magnus mutters while stepping into the bustling streets filled to the brim with chattering college students.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THough on most occasions, such as now, Alexander is painfully aware to the folly that his parents have intricately crafted together for him. Back when they believed they would have a son who would revel in the wealth he had been granted with at birth. A son who would exhibit the beguiling charisma that his adoptive brother has mastered so effortlessly…A son who would have easily fallen for one of the plentiful of pretty, intelligent women his mother had courted on his behalf, if only they hadn't shared one crucial downfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys<3<3…So just a quick important note before reading this…If you have only read the first chapter when it first came out…It would perhaps be useful fi you were to reread it :S :S I am so so so sorry because I completely understand how annoying and tedious that may be, but I recently rewrote most of it, and I think the changes are pretty large, and I don't know if this will make any sense unless you are aware of them :S  
> Again, i am so sorry :S<3

Scintillating shafts of the mid morning sun filters through the coral tuffs of cotton, while scraping across the endless, cyan expanse, and frolicking atop the vibrantly toned array of blossoms gleaming against the vivid greens of tree tops and sod.

The garden of the prestigious Albany country club is one of beauty, and not unfamiliar when the communities wealthy and elite hold one of their far to exuberant festivities, for the simple of intentions of flaunting their status, or to revive friendly acquaintance with those whom may prove to be invaluable in the future. 

Today proves no difference.

A customary regality saturates the day, as the attendees of the opulent brunch meander the grounds, exchanging pleasantries with far to rigid postures, and poised expressions as blank as the ivory apparel of which they are clad in.

Amongst the crowd, stands a young man clad in a cotton toned tux, and mask of indifference obscuring the contemptuous scowl he would like to sear onto every patron of the ostentatious affair. 

Alexander Lightwood despises the mere thought of being associated with the sort of people whom currently swarm around him, (The abundantly wealthy, and unbearably ignorant,) and finds it fitting that they appear as if specs of a cumulous, faded to eternally glide in their pristinely kept bubble of falsehoods and scandals. Eternally insistent that they stand high above those whom hadn't been bestowed millions upon their birth into this warped world.

But before his frustrations grow any more odious, Alexander swallows down his displeasure. After all, not only is he the eldest son of the family whom stand as the quintessential model of which those whom surround him strive to be, but soon enough he would be depending on their support.

“"First a pledged member of the Nephilim, then the marines, then law school, and then political game….”

The words uttered so many times prior by his parents, reverberate in the confines of his mind, having been so permanently scorched into his consciousness that he thinks of them as a mantra, (Or perhaps a self fulfilling prophecy,) at this point. 

The feted Lightwood name is one which elicits a sense of reverence. It holds a history saturated with judicious acts, and esteemed triumphs. A title which is as revered as the royal House of Windsor, or the uproarious Kennedy legacy.

And soon, the all too perfect Alexander Lightwood will become the crown joule to adorn their family appellation, by claiming the position of presidency.

Occasionally, when he catches something akin to pride glimmering in his father's, governor Robert Lightwood's, eyes, and when his mother, illustrious lawyer Maryse Lightwood, affectionately chats to him about the future he stands on the precipice of, Alec is inclined to believe them. For a moment, he fools himself into conceiving that he could act as the ever perfect son they so utterly desire. One who was artfully constructed to put there plans into fruition, and make it so their name will be engraved into the history books as one of the most renowned families to have ever lived.

Though, on most occasions, such as now, Alec is painfully aware to the folly that his parents have intricately crafted together for him. Back when they believed they would have a son who would revel in the wealth he had been granted with at birth. A son who would easily exhibit the beguiling charisma that his siblings have mastered so effortlessly…A son who would have easily fallen for one of the plentiful of pretty, intelligent women his mother had courted on his behalf, if only they hadn't shared one crucial downfall.

Prior to his being able to analyze what exactly prevents him from sustaining a girlfriend for longer than a few months, Alexander strays his gaze upwards, and catches a familiar sight. 

The dark haired man finds his sister, two years his junior, storming towards him, she is garnished in a modest gown, embellished with far to many ruffles, and her thick, sable tresses coiled around the crown of her head. Rather than a college freshman, she yet again appears as if the six year old who would mischievously convince her elder brother to evade the excruciating company of the affluent spectators of the most recent soiree—Which is nothing more than a bombastic guise to take part of their most beloved act of parading their wealth and status to envious peers, or dangerous rivals—And escape with her to the sanctuary that they had carved out for themselves.

Alec is half prepared to follow Izzy’s lead, and race off into the labyrinth of evergreens, standing only a few yards away, Permitting himself to become lost in the ebullience of juvenescence once more, showered in the shimmering rays of sunlight and the grace of their own chortles, but as she saunters nearer, Alec catches the peevish glower set in her delicate features, and the figure of a middle-aged woman tailing her path. One of the raven haired woman's hands resides upon her waist, as the other waves freely in he air, and Alec can only imagine the lecture that his younger sister is currently receiving.

Isabelle catches his gaze, and they exchange an entire conversation with nothing more than a glance, so with a clearing of his throat, and step forward, Alec greets the pair.

"Hey mother, Izzy," he smiles while embracing the former.

Thank you, Izzy mouths over Maryse’s shoulder.

"Oh mi amor," the lovely woman coos as she parts from her son. "Look how handsome you look," she coos as she cradles her eldest child's beautiful face into her palms. As she gazes at him, Alec has the strangest sensation of an artist appraising her work. Her scan immediately flickers towards each imperfection desecrating his striking visage. From the slight indent found just above his lip, to the fading scar cutting the area where his eyebrow, and forehead intercept.

It unnerves him, how Maryse could analyze him so calculatingly, stripping away any pretense that he could ever actually meet the standards she and his father have always held for him.

“You’re best just isn’t good enough Alexander.”

Some part of Alec feels as if, despite the path his parents had pieced together for him to follow, he would always be some sort of oddity to his family. Never finding the crook between Robert and Maryse’s methodical outlook, Jace’s cunning swagger, Isabelle’s innate affability, or Max's mischievous charm. No where for him to fit quite right, 

Alec constantly ache to find the space where he is meant to lie—Somewhere he is excepted entirely.

"I can hardly believe that you guys are heading back to the city already," Maryse parts from her eldest child, jolting him out of his musings. "It feels as if I haven't seen you all summer Alexander. Your father took up far to much of your time interning at the offices."

"Lucky bastard," Izzy spits towards his direction, quiet enough so the only way he could understand her is by reading the contours of her lips.

The young man stifles a laugh, as he assures his mother that he will visit her on a myriad of occasions throughout the upcoming semester.

Obviously pleased in his response, Maryse gives a peck of the cheeks to each of her children as farewell.

"Be sure to give Jace my love, we feel just awful that he had to leave a week earlier for that mishap with his classes." She instructs in the composed manner which appears to come naturally to the attorney. "And say goodbye to your father, I'm sure he's around here somewhere speaking to a colleague or another."

The siblings nod in unison as a confirmation to having heard their mother. 

The pair appear as if twins of sorts, sharing the captivating amalgamation of jutting cheekbones, and long, elegant limbs which resemble a dancers. The only true physical contrast between the stunningly beautiful duo being that where as Izzy's gaze holds alluring depths of onyx, her brother adopted their grandfather’s ever changing hazel orbs, (Ones which regularly alter between chestnut pools, cerulean skies, and emerald oceans.) Eyes which can entrance even the coldest of persons.

As the siblings commence their retreat to the campus that they would be calling home for the upcoming semester, they are put to a sudden halt when hearing their mother calling after them.

"Oh mi amor," she exclaims. "I was meaning to ask you how your dinner with Aline Penhallow went last Saturday."

Alec deadpans at the inquiry.

"Oh, yeah, that was fun…" He sputters in surprise, despising how he could feel the pitiful glance that his sister is throwing his direction, scorching into his back.

"Splendid," Maryse grins genially. "You do realize that her mother intends to run for the fifth district congressional seat this upcoming year? It would do us well if your father had another friendly acquaintance to support him if he were to present a bill, don't you think?"

Alec does nothing more than nod, deciding to refrain from disclosing to his mother how the night hadn't even ended with a shared kiss between he and the eldest Penhallow girl. He instead opts to continue his retreat from the air thick of expectations, a very questioning Izzy on is tracks.

 

***

 

"I'm sorry about that," Izzy mutters to her brother when ensuring that they were no longer within earshot of Maryse. 

"For what?" Alec cranes one of his strong brows, infuriating Izzy in how he insists on carrying some sort of facade even when around her of all people.

"For mom and dad running you ragged between work and setting you up on dates with people you're not even attracted to." Isabelle glares at nothing in particular, and feels the sudden rush of need to let out a scream of frustration for she, and her brother, and all the other children whom found themselves stuck in this caricature of family values—A parody of how a truly loving, and supportive family should function.

"I thought Aline was pretty," Alec gives a shrug of his shoulder, now appearing to just be testing Isabelle with his indifference.

"That's not exactly what I meant," she needles testily. Although, before allowing herself to become to frustrated in his stoic behavior, Izzy slips into taking up a different line of attack. "Besides I know for a fact that you aren't her’s—Type I mean."

"Oh," Alec murmurs in a way as if he were accustomed to not being the focal point of someone's intrigue. As if he didn't notice the way people migrated towards him no matter the situation, or how pedestrians, men and women alike, would outright gawk in his direction as he would stroll down open streets.

Though Isabelle suspects that her foolish, and ever self deprecating, mess of a brother was truly blind to the effect he had on others.

"Yeah," the beauty continues. "You didn't hear it from me, but you know how me and Meliorn are on an indefinite break?" She takes his nod as an invitation to continue with her ramblings. "Well I've been seeing Livy Blackthorn lately, and guess who I found out her sister, Helen, has been dating for the last couple of months?"

“Do I actually care?” Alec mutters impassively. The pair has come to a complete stop in the middle of the winding down brunch, as her older brother scans the garden’s expanse for any sign of their father.

“It’s Aline Bobo!”

Alec’s face slackens in shock.

"I know isn't it just the sweetest thing," Isabelle nearly chirps with excitement, a bright smile splaying across her lovely face. "And Helen's parents are so totally supportive about them! I guess it just makes you realize that parents love their children no matter what, especially if they are just being true to themselves."

They stand frozen for a moment to long—A pregnant silence stacking in the space between them.

Alec levels her with a look, and Izzy’s stomach sinks once realizing that rather than pensiveness, it is an emotion of apprehension that is etched into Alec’s countenance.

"Izzy, the Blackthorns are liberal adversaries to dad," the cold words shoot from Alec’s lips, wrapped in layers of ice and silver.

"So after that whole story, you're really about to lecture me about family loyalties?" She smears. "Besides you know for a fact that if we weren't Lightwoods, we would be supporting them on practically all their proposals-"

"NO, I don't care who you're seeing," Alec chides slowly, each syllable stilted with an inflection Izzy is not accustomed to hearing displayed by her brother. Her brother of kind smiles, and insecure glances. Her brother who is always selflessly fighting for the people he loves over all else. Her brother who offers a shoulder for Izzy to lean on without any sort of expectation of something in return.

"The Penhallows are about to run a crucial campaign based on family values. Do you honestly think it's a coincidence that our mom and Jia Penhallow arranged a date between me and Aline? Especially if Elaine recently came out to them?"

Izzy parts her plump lips, but finds herself void of a response. She is shocked to have not connected the dots on her own. 

“Oh mi hermano,” Izzy starts, clamping a hand onto her brother’s broad shoulder—Someone she would do anything to make happy.

Really, truly happy.

"I see Senator Cartwright," Alec shrugs off her comforting embrace—Feeling like a slap to Izzy’s face. “I’ll ask if he's seen dad…Maybe you should go check if the town-car is ready."

“Yeah, sure…” Izzy concedes. it paining her in ways untold when realizing that there is absolutely nothing she could do to single handedly reform the way of thought for an entire generation of adults that she is meant to look up to.

“I’ll do that.”

 

***

 

The three hour trip had been one composed of silence, only intruded upon the subtle hum of the radio, and buzzing of the phone.

Alec feels a twinge of regret for having snapped at his sister in such tart manner, but he has become tiresome of imagining an existence where he no longer needed to engulf himself in dark shadows, and surreptitious secrets. As if there was a future where he could hold another boy’s hand, and be spared from the skewering glowers of his parents. As if he could live in his truth.

Alec Lightwood has long ago resigned himself to his destiny of making his family proud—Even if it left him hallow.

With a shake of the head, the young adult shakes off all the dispiriting thoughts threatening to burrow themselves into his consciousness. Instead, he looks upwards at the fraternity house he has come to know so intimately as a new pledge the previous year.

It was a building which commanded the appreciation by onlookers. One which permeates strength with the imposing columns flocking it's entrance, and the pristine gleam of platinum toned bricks…Unlike the sleek edges and charming embellishments of flora found when looking at their sister sorority, The Iron Sisters, home, which practically rang out with elegance and delight, the home of the Silent Brothers, with a twist of unforgiving irony, roared with it's past acts of depravity and decadence. Accented with the promises of more found in the future.

As Alec stepped through the threshold of the grand manner, his gaze flickers to the seal hanging pridefully onto the door. Etched into the golden plate read, "Descensus Averno facilis est." (The descent into hell is easy.) 

Once entering the foyer, Alec is shocked to see the area cleared of the littered pizza boxes, and crushed beer cans that had strewed the entirety of the floor the previous year. but he shrugs off the observation, and rushes to put away his bags, already running behind to meeting with the student he's going to tutor.

A tint of crimson flushes Alec's cheeks once he stumbles into his room, and found that it was already occupied.

"Parabatai," the golden haired boy calls out in greeting, forever inclined upon using the title given to them as new pledges, which derives from a bond from ancient scripture, whenever greeting his best friend. "I didn't expect you bak already."

"My bad," Alec hesitates when spotting a pale haired girl, Kylie he thinks, lying naked besides Jace beneath the sheets.

"No worries Alec," the girl giggles with a melodic voice, and flutter of the lashes. "You're always welcome."

"I-I just came to drop off my bags, I'm running late."

"Oh don't tell me you're starting that so early this year," Jace sighs, apparently finding the situation not unpleasant in the least.

"Starting what?" Alec queries, wanting nothing more than to run out of the dormitory.

"That whole, "gotta be perfect," thing. With all that studying, and community work, and sporting events," the boy whom appears to be amalgam of sunlight and toned muscle, drawls. "It's exhausting trying to keep up with you."

"Well you know what Jace, not all of us have the ease of doing what ever we'd like, whenever we'd like. Without the fear of ramifications," Alec snaps with a scowl mangling his handsome features.

Jace hikes his brows, a sudden concerned expression molding over him. 

"Alec are you-"

Suddenly, Alec’s expression goes blank. He can't believe that he had been so short tempered with the two closest confidants he holds on this entire planet—All in the span of a few hours.

"Forget it, I'm just stressed." Alec waves off Jace’s unnecessary worry. "Can you guys just finish up before I get back. Or at the very least be clothed."

With an obvious apologetic glance thrown Jace's direction, Alec heads down to the bistro.

“Nice going Lightwood,” he curses to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys sooooooo muchhh for reading<3<3 It means so so much!  
> I know that it's not nearly as good as the previous chapter, and maybe a little…IDK…But I promise that I'll do better.  
> I would really really really loveeeee to hear form your lovelyselves <3<3  
> I ope to hear from you soon :)

**Author's Note:**

> LOL So TBH I honestly just don't know…It's like a hybrid of their book/show selves and just all very different :S  
> I'm so sorry if you hated it….I just realyyyyy wanted to write Maleccccc…and this is the only way I know how XS  
> But if ou even enjoyed it slightly…pleaseeeeeeee let me know if I should continue…Or just stop and do something else completely :S  
> Thank you for reading!  
> I reallyyyyyyy hope to hear form you soon<3<3<3


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